


Pick Me Apart

by Fitestrum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: After cliff, BDSM, Dominant Hannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Submissive Will, character dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitestrum/pseuds/Fitestrum
Summary: Who holds the power in this equal and powerful couplement?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Pick Me Apart

I can see from your face that you know I am yours, you spent so long, luring me, coaxing, manipulating, all the while I refused you as I leant over the railings to watch the horrors beneath. There was a lingering silence when I plunged from the cliff, over the railings finally, you tight in my grip letting me pull you in. The water was deep and cold, it cut, shoved and exhilarated me. You knew nothing needed to be said, you understood my intensions just as I had understood yours. We were on the shore of the beach, at first I couldn't see anything. The pain of salt and sand in my wounds was the first thing I had felt, then it was the almost breaking pain in my body. My eyes struggled to open, breaking apart my eyelids while the world spun. I sucked in air, watery and wheezing, I coughed like an old haggard. Then, as if the clouds had split apart I saw your face, stone and yet amused, exhausted. Your fingers stretched out before me, offering help. We staggered away like old men, and the silence was only as meaningful as I had remembered. I would always pay for my mistakes; what would you ask of me now that I was yours?  
  
While you were waiting for us to recover I saw you watching me, as you always watched. Your actions were not with much haste, that was too distasteful. Now there I was as you made me, in all of my power, finally resigned to the darkness that was encased inside of me. To gain your forgiveness, to refrain from the wars that we had so readily fought with each other I had to finally submit. I was dressed like myself, a grey blazer, brown woollen sweater, and yet I was nothing the same. I was rendered until my layers broke, becoming new, fragrant, strong. Through the fiery sense of my own power, I still can't help but admire yours. This gift to you was as much of a punishment as it was a thrill. I stood in front of you, almost sneering with abrasive restraint, yet soaked in loathing stubbornness. I could see the enjoyment in your eyes, a knowing that you have cracked me open so far that for the rest of the world I am a monster, but for you I would always give myself over to yours.   
  
I stared at you breathing deeply with anticipation, yet holding my head high in a fevered display of restraint and pride. I could see in your eyes you planned to break through my walls, as you always had, I watched you revel in my angry longing.   
  
"Take off your shirt and trousers," you said simply.   
  
I took a shaky deep breath and did as you had told me, taking off my blazer slowly, then my knitted sweater, then I slowly unbuttoned my flannel shirt and laid them all on a chair along with my pants. We had never been this way before, and I had realised then you were also waiting for the anticipation to rise, you wanted this to be overwhelming for me. You are always playing, Hannibal. Of course what I held hidden was the knowledge that I too understood you, and that I too would try to break through your preserved layer, I wanted to see you losing the control that you so carefully constructed.   
  
"Lay down," you said.  
  
I slowly lowered down onto the bed, not breaking my stare. I felt the heat in my groin rise and my breathing sharpen without my consent, just as the heat rose to my cheeks forcing me to break my stare. You slowly almost maliciously leant over me, bare chested now, to click in my handcuffs to the bed. I never heard you snicker, but I knew what your expression would say if I had met your gaze. You were enjoying this, with intense arousal and amusement. I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. Already I could feel the handcuffs biting into my wrist malevolently when I instinctively strained against them. I hissed through my teeth, in surprise and pain.   
  
"Careful Will," you said, striding across the room like a cat. 'Just like you or I, they bite back."  
  
I watched you prowling, and knew this would be a dangerous game for anyone else.   
  
"15 strikes," you said. I came back to myself, breathing laboured, torso lined with sweat. You were holding some sort of whip with with a number of different leather tails. "I want you to count each one out loud so that I can hear." I nodded slowly, eyebrows knitted together.  
  
When I felt your first lash I watched you picking me apart, it was a hard hit and I gasped out the number one like you had asked me to. I grunted and resisted the urge to pull on my restraints, I could see why you had chosen them. If I resisted my instinct I couldn't express my urge and I would suffer, If I fought my restraints I would get bitten, this is the position I had put myself in, time and time again. After the 5th lash I had by that time been bitten quite a few times by my restraints, yet I was left with the knowledge it had been my own doing. You could see me cracking as your lashes became became harsher, you revelled in it. On your 8th lash I shakily whelped, unable to control my reactions. I had a flash in my mind of the night your knife had entered me, yet I knew it was not like this night. My resilience was holding on by threads even as my arousal had deepened remarkably, I knew you would draw blood. By the 12th lash I was breathing erratically, I opened my eyes to meet yours and could see malicious beauty reflected back at me. You reflected on my position, you were struck that I had given myself to you, and so was I. By the 15th lash I was mentally and physically exhausted, almost sagging into defeat, and I could see adoration along your features.  
  
"You are beautiful this way Will, as you always have been to me." You put the whip down and came closer. "You were a broken lamb once remember?, It was beautiful in its own right." You reached out and stroked the wet hair out of my eyes. "Now though, a wounded lion." ' _Only tamed for you,'_ I thought. Did you plan this?, of course you did. One way or another.   
  
"How thrilling," I say in laboured breath.  
  
You dropped your hand and smirked at my sarcasm. "Is this entirely unlike your own thrill Will? Stepping close to a fire and not getting burned?"  
  
I just looked at you, and you looked back, the threat in your eyes. I stared up at you, slightly wavering in my resolve due to the position I was in. You rested your hand along the marks you had made on me, pressing down a little and I hissed in a breath sharply, closing my eyes.   
  
"Yes it is thrilling." I looked up at you. "Predominantly because it's you," I said.   
  
You looked back at me and breathed in deeply, my first nod to your own weakness and restraint. I would test and prod you, this was a weakness we both shared, the weakness only of each other. You slowly pulled my boxers off freeing my erection, I looked away as the only one in the room entirely naked. You were reminding me of where we stood. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want more!


End file.
